Shadows of Doubt
by smartkid37
Summary: His agent had never questioned how he'd handled a case before, so what made this case different? Digging for the answers, he just might find something he never expected. Can he handle the truth he finds? Episode Tag: "Heartland"
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Written for the "Father's & Sons" Challenge & the "Fix It" Challenge on NFA_

Takes place immediately following "Heartland" - which aired October 14, 2008

* * *

_Boss, you think maybe we've taken something of a wrong turn? Everyone in town thought he was dead already._

_Maybe he wanted it that way._

_******NCIS******_

_Well, Boss, we got a load of garbage in the car. I'm sure Abby will have a field day sifting through it for... DNA. And we found out who saw the video. It was Emily._

_There a reason you're not on the road, McGee?_

_Listen, boss, I-I understand that you're treating this case differently. Some might say with kid gloves. But not me. I wouldn't say that. Boss, you're gonna start busting in doors at some point, right? Dragging people out in handcuffs. Tossing 'em in a room, lean on 'em till they break. Personally, I think it works for you._

_Yesterday you thought I'd made a wrong turn._

_Well, that was yesterday._

_Today I'm not moving fast enough._

_I didn't mean to..._

_Want to frontload complaints for tomorrow, McGee, or do I have to wait until the sun comes up?_

*******NCIS****  
**

The case had been solved and they'd returned to D.C. without fanfare and for that, Leroy Jethro Gibbs was thankful. The ride home from Stillwater, Pennsylvania had been somewhat of an emotional one; driving the very car he'd bought and paid for with his own scraped together earnings back in his Freshman year of high school and put together over the years with the loving hands of a father long shunned by a grieving son who hadn't understood what had mattered most. The Team Leader had cherished every minute of that solitary drive that had allowed him to put it all back into its' rightful perspective now that years and knowledge were on his side.

But, now they'd returned to the grudge work of writing up the case reports and as he sent his eyes around the room to each of his agents in turn, he found his eyes stopping for a moment on the one who'd bothered him the most during this case. This agent had done his job without any difficulty or complaint, hadn't done anything too terribly outlandish or uncalled for. In fact, there had only been one problem from this agent that had raised the Team Leader's ire. The trouble was, that it had happened more than once – enough that Gibbs had finally snapped back on the agent, something else that rarely occurred within the strangely distant yet somehow workable dynamic between the two of them.

Knowing his team already knew they were free to leave when their reports had been finished and placed on his desk, Gibbs put his own mind back on his own report and left his agents to theirs. He couldn't get far on his report though, because his mind kept asking the questions he wanted the answers to. _Why? What was it about this case that brought that out in his agent now, but never had before? _

Finally, he couldn't stand the lack of answers anymore and he tossed his pen down on his desk and looked up and noticed Tony and Ziva were still steadily working on their reports. Glancing over at his youngest agent, he took in the fact that the young man wasn't actually working, but rather, looking off into the distance, sight unseen. Gibbs stood to his feet. Walking out around his desk, he gave out the order he needed as he looked directly at the agent in question. "With me."

It was an eerie and uncomfortable silence that settled into the air around his team at those spoken words, even as the agent in question hurried to catch up so as to keep from earning his anger. None of them liked it when it was applied to them and they liked it even less when they'd accidentally earned it. As soon as the doors to the elevator closed on both of them and the box began descending, Gibbs snapped the off switch and turned to his agent.

"Why?"

"Boss?" His agent questioned with confusion.

"Why were you second guessing me on this case, McGee?"

"Boss, I'm sorry, I didn't mea…."

"Stop!"

Tim fell silent as his heart nearly stopped up in his throat. He'd had a feeling this was coming yet he'd been unable to stop himself from blurting out those questions that challenged the boss' way of doing things back in Stillwater. He'd hoped the boss would do whatever he felt Tim had earned in repercussions without digging for what had motivated the young man but apparently, Tim wasn't going to be quite so lucky.

"Answer the question, McGee." Gibbs was barely a foot from his personal space while quietly demanding his order be followed, obviously not willing to let this go.

"Boss, I can't explain it, it's not like I meant to question how you handled the case. You know I don't…have never…"

"Then why this time, McGee? What the hell got into you?" The Team Leader demanded angrily.

Tim's eyes found the floor at his feet for a half minute before he forced himself to look back up at his irate boss. "I don't know. I can't explain it."

"Next time you think you can do my job better than me, McGee, you just say the word and I'll turn my gun, my badge and my chair over to you and go back to Mexico! Until then – you _figure out _why you decided I wasn't doing my job good enough to suite you and then you explain it to me!" Gibbs snapped off on him as he flipped the elevator back on and silently rode it until it stopped back on the squad room level. With anything further being said, they parted ways with Tim going back to his work while Gibbs immediately headed out of the squad room, anger practically vibrating off of him.

Watching from their desks, both Tony and Ziva were perplexed but it was Tony who was quick on his feet with the spoken question. "Man, Probie, what did you do this time?"

Tim's slow and disheartened trek to his desk continued on, as if he hadn't heard Tony speak.

"Probie!"

"Huh? What?" Tim stopped and looked over at the older man.

"What have you done this time? I haven't seen the boss that pissed in quite a while." Tony's demand for the answer was half authoritative, mixed with concern and even a dash of just plain curiousity, taking the sting out of his loud tone.

"You mean since the last time I pissed him off." Tim remarked caustically. Shaking his head at his own knack for getting Gibbs angry at him, he dropped down in his chair with a thud and rubbed his temples where he felt the beginnings of a serious headache coming at him. "Don't ask, Tony. Not this time."

"What the hell does that mean – not this time?" Now Tony was less than happy, heading on into becoming pissed himself.

"Tony, leave McGee alone!" Ziva intervened sternly. "Can you not see that he needs to work through whatever this is for himself? Did Gibbs not say that as soon as we complete our reports we are free to go? I thought you were in a hurry to leave this evening?"

"Yeah, I was. Fine, McScrewup – but for your sake, I sure hope you fix whatever it is you messed up before the boss starts taking it out on the rest of us!" Tony practically snarled at Tim before sitting back down and getting back to his report.

Left in peace at last as Tony settled back into working on his own report, Tim found he could no longer concentrate on his report. In fact, reading it back through, he realized he hadn't been concentrating on it before either. He, himself, had been bothered by his actions and his words towards Gibbs back in Stillwater – so much so that he'd been asking himself the same question that the man himself just asked him. The trouble was that he'd meant what he'd said in response.

Tim really did not know why he'd questioned the boss' way of handling the case, not once but twice in two days. He felt awful about having done something like that while the man had already been having to deal with the personal pain of returning home after many, many years gone and coming home to a town with more than one person who'd made your life there less than pleasant.

Then there was the issue of the boss' estrangement from his father coming to pass in front of the man's subordinates instead of privately as it should have been able to happen and Tim couldn't help but feel his breath catch at that thought. Why in the hell would he have put any more stress on the man at a time like that? Tim was normally so careful and polite about things like that with most people and Gibbs meant more to him than most people in general – so then why had he done it?

He knew the man deserved an answer. More importantly, Tim needed to understand it himself ; not only so he wouldn't do it again, but so that he could fix whatever was wrong that had caused him to act that way in the first place. Needing to get this day over with, he got back to work.

Tony and Ziva were soon done with their reports and gone for the night, while Gibbs had come back silently and returned to his work without even so much as a glance in Tim's direction, Tim remained engrossed in finishing up his report. It wasn't long before he, too was done and was printing it off. Shutting down his work station, he snagged his report off the printer and signed it before placing it on Gibbs' desk and heading out of the squad room without daring to speak to the Team Leader for fear of sparking another round of anger


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Wow - Okay, for those of you who thought Gibbs over-reacted in chapter one- Couple of things to keep in mind._

1. Tim challenged Gibbs way of doing things - big no-no #1  
_2. When pushed to explain himself - the only response Tim had was - that he couldn't explain it - big no-no #2._

_Gibbs was not angry until this point. merely wanting to know why Tim had acted this way._

_If this still seems OOC for Gibbs - I do apologise._

Let's see where our men go from there, shall we?

* * *

As he took himself to see someone he hoped could help him figure things out, Tim realized Gibbs had every right to be angry with him. That was a large part of why he was so upset with himself for having behaved that way towards the man. It wasn't as if the boss had been so off base that he'd genuinely been wrong. In fact, the man had done nothing worth being spoken to in that fashion and Tim knew that.

With a sigh of frustration, he walked into Autopsy, relieved to find the beloved M.E. still present and obviously in a good mood as well.

"Timothy! What a pleasant surprise! What brings you down to these lesser visited parts?"

"I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?" Tim asked hesitantly.

"Why certainly, young man. What's this about?"

"Could we talk in your office, Ducky?"

"Ah, I see. Certainly. Let's put on some tea, shall we?"

"That would be great, actually." Tim admitted.

"Very well, then. Come along." Ducky led the way to his office, shutting the door behind them as they entered.

It wasn't but a few moments later that they were both finally settled into comfortable chairs with their cups of hot tea, yet conversation had yet to be started.

"Alright, Timothy. What seems to be the trouble?"

As Tim related the entire story to him, Ducky remained silently listening, taking in everything the younger man had to say and even that which he didn't speak of. Even after Tim had run out of words to explain his problem, the M.E. remained thoughtfully silent.

Unnerved by Ducky's silence in the face of everything he'd just told him, Tim found himself too antsy to sit still. Needing to be doing something besides just sitting there, he stood and began pacing within the confines of the M.E.'s office, waiting for the man to speak.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Ducky rose from his chair, took the cups over to the tea kettle and refilled them. Setting them down on the desk, he walked over to Tim and compassionately laid a hand on his shoulder, silently bringing the young man's pacing to a standstill. "Come, sit back down and we'll try to get to the bottom of this, hmm?"

Tim nodded and smiled softly in appreciation as he took his seat once more and took the cup of tea Ducky set before him, and drank from it while the M.E. got seated once more. Taking a minute to enjoy his own cup of tea, Ducky finally spoke after yet another minute of silence had gone by.

"Timothy, I wonder if I might ask you a question or two about your own father. I do believe the answer to your questions regarding your recent behavior towards Jethro might very well lie there."

"With my father?" Tim asked in disbelief.

"Yes. Would you mind?"

"No, I guess not."

"Very good. Now, tell me, if you would, how you would describe your relationship with your father?"

"Non-existent." Tim answered in a monotone – as if his feelings about the matter had long been numbed into nothingness.

"Would you care to talk about it? Doing so might be of some help to you – may give you a way to work through some of the hurt that has obviously accumulated from this state of affairs between the two of you." Ducky encouraged sympathetically.

Tim's thoughts on the subject, long buried under life's every day stresses and demands, seemed to come tumbling out now that someone had finally cared enough to pry open the door to it all. As he spoke, it became obvious that he mourned for the family that hadn't been what it should be for a long time. His family had been torn apart when Tim had steadfastly followed his dream of becoming an NCIS Federal Field Agent .

As he spoke and the pain was shed he realized that the loneliness always came back to him full force when faced with the sight of a family that clearly felt genuine love and support for each other, even if he had never before realized exactly what it was he'd felt at those moments. Not being able to stop the flow of words now that they'd been given their escape, Tim went on to explain how he'd tried for years now to pick up the phone and call his father – on the man's birthday just to wish him a happy one and for Christmas, too.

But, every year, both times each year, Tim sadly admitted now, he was met with the same dilemma_. _He would pick up the phone and push the buttons for the numbers very slowly, as if every movement weighs a ton. By the time he reached the last button, his hand would flip the phone shut, his brain screaming at him that he wasn't ready for another round of rejection from the man who's supposed to love him unconditionally but somehow had never gotten to a place where unconditional meant anything to him. Every attempt for the past four years had been a journey through sorrow and regret.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of talking, Tim ran out of words and energy alike. Taking a deep breath, he worked to calm himself down from the emotional wave that threatened to overtake him. He could feel the sting of tears behind his eyes, but he refused to give in to them. He'd put the pain of his father's rejection behind him long ago and he wasn't about to let this bring it back in any way that would hurt him; not again.

"Oh, Timothy. Hearing all of what you've kept buried inside, I do firmly believe I am correct in this matter."

"You really think that how I treated Gibbs has to do with my father's rejection?" Tim asked with a heavy dose of self-recrimination in his tone.

"Yes, dear boy. I would suggest that your inner self has long viewed such heart-wrenching reconciliations such as the one between Jethro and his father – as something to be jealous of, since it is a source of joy and shared love that you have long been denied."

"Ducky, that's horrible. Why should I be jealous of people who have families that love them unconditionally? Am I really that shallow?"

"No, Timothy, you are nothing of the sort! Please do not think that's what I'm saying, because that is not what I mean at all."

"Being jealous of other people's family relationships that aren't screwed up like mine sounds pretty petty to me, Ducky." Tim insisted sourly.

"Yes, I imagine with your gentleman's code of honor deeply ingrained as it is, that it would seem as such. But, rest assured, young man, it is a normal emotional response when one's own family relationships are as strained and painful as yours has been, and every year that it remains that way becomes even more difficult , I imagine."

"No, Ducky. You're wrong about this." Tim insisted with a shake of his head. "I put this away when I went to FLETC. I had to."

"I think you will find, my dear boy, if you look deeply enough and closely enough that that most private part of who you are has merely been set aside and it has become buried under all of life's ups and downs and all the trials and triumphs along the way. However, that pain and sorrow is still alive enough that it reaches out when it can get your attention. That feeling of rejection from one's own parent is not one that goes away simply by refusing to think about it, I'm afraid."

"Shouldn't be an excuse for the way I treated Gibbs." Tim refused to let himself off the hook.

"Rest assured young man, on that point, you are quite correct. It is not an excuse for anything of the sort." Ducky was quick to agree with the young man's thinking. "It is merely the reason behind it - the force that guided you – if you will."

Tim gently scoffed with the merest of smiles.. "You sound like Tony quoting Star Wars."

Ducky went to his office door and placed his hand on the door know as he smiled at the young man's attempt to throw off the attention. "Why don't you give it some thought, Timothy? Perhaps you will be able to better explain yourself to Gibbs after you've thought on it for a couple of days. And remember, it does not make us shallow, to want to feel the unconditional love from our parents that we are long taught should have been ours from birth." Opening the door, he waited for Tim to head out before turning out the light in the office.

The Autopsy doors swooshed open, revealing a less than happy looking Gibbs. Tim glanced at him quickly but just as quickly looked away, his eyes sliding back to those of the M.E., offerring him a quiet "Thanks, Ducky. " Holding on to his ability to keep from letting any more of what he was feeling – out for show – he quietly excused himself and slid out between Gibbs and the doors, leaving the two older men alone while he made good his escape, choosing to take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.

Watching his agent leave in a way that left no doubt he felt like he couldn't escape fast enough, Gibbs turned his eyes onto those of his long-time friend. "What's goin' on, Duck?"

"Hello, Jethro. What brings you to my humble abode at the end of a long day?" Ducky tried to change the topic while maintaining his openly communicative friendship with the younger man.

"Got a minute?"

"Absolutely. What can I do for you, my friend?"

"Help me solve a puzzle."

"Oh? What puzzle needs solving?"

"The one that just left."

"Ah. I see. You are referring to young Timothy." Ducky surmised calmly, knowing he'd had no doubts as to whom Gibbs was referring.

"He talk to you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, he did."

"And?"

"And what? What is it exactly that you're after here, Jethro?"

Gibbs glared at his friend in silent frustration.

"Jethro, you know I cannot divulge that which has not been deemed sharable by those who choose to confide in me."

"Anything you can tell me, at all?"

"No." Ducky admitted sadly.

As Gibbs turned to go, the M.E. called him back, "Jethro, I might, however, be able to offer you a piece of advice that may be of some use to you in regard to our troubled young man."

Gibbs headed back towards the M.E., his face a picture of impatience and aggravation. "I'm listenin'"

"Might I suggest that you take a moment to realize something of vital importance to the both of you?"

The Team Leader nodded silently, willing the older man to continue with his explanation.

"However disturbed or angered you might be feeling in regard to young Timothy's behavior towards you while you were busy trying to solve that case, The behavior he exhibited, as we both know, is foreign to him and Timothy is even more bothered and upset with himself for it."

Unmistakeable doubt marched across Gibbs' face, causing the M.E. to quickly continue on.

"Jethro, listen to what I am telling you. Timothy found himself a spectator to your reconciliation with not only your father, but your past as well. And while I cannot divulge anything further, I can and will say that seeing that reconciliation take place, and how difficult it seemed to be for you, triggered something deep within him regarding his own family that he himself wasn't even aware of at the time."

Gibbs cocked his head to the side as he took in what his friend was telling him.

"The fact that he did not understand where that behavior had come from truly scared him, almost as much as realizing that the root of it was still there, buried down inside himself. Do try to remember that if and when the young man does come to you about this."

"Told him he needed to explain himself to me, Duck."

"Yes, so I've heard. While I don't blame you for wanting that explanation, Jethro. It will serve you well to remember, that he will need to dig deeply within himself to find that answer for himself before he can even attempt to even offer it to you. Do try and be patient with him while he sorts through this , won't you?"

"Ducky!"

"Oh, I'm very much aware that patience is not a virtue with which you have been heavily blessed, but do try to extend some to the poor lad, won't you?"

Gibbs smirked as he turned to head out. "Appreciate it, Duck."


	3. Chapter 3

As he signed out for the night and headed home, thankfully not having to deal with rush hour congestion now, he couldn't get it out of his mind; the M.E.'s words replaying themselves over and over again in his head.

"… _I would suggest that your inner self has long viewed such heart-wrenching reconciliations such as the one between Jethro and his father – as something to be jealous of, since it is a source of joy and shared love that you have long been denied."_

_No!_ He scolded himself sternly. _Not going there again! _With an angry twist of his wrist he turned on the radio letting the knob turn to full volume; blasting the noise to block out his thoughts that he refused to give credence to any longer. As the string of normally bothersome radio commercials filled the air around him, he breathed out a sigh of temporary relief, even as the voice in his head reminded him that none of this was going away just because he didn't want to think about it.

_"…That feeling of rejection from one's own parent is not one that goes away simply by refusing to think about it, I'm afraid."_

"NO!" Tim demanded of his own mind's stubborn refusal to drop this. "I dealt with this already, damn it!"

As the car swerved under the direction of his now shaking hands on the wheel, Tim sucked in a breath and corrected his driving, going so far as to exit the beltway as quickly as he came across the next exit and park at the thankfully present gas station which also housed a Subway. Turning off the engine, he closed his eyes in an effort to pull himself together. Remembering the words he told the M.E., he repeated them now for his own sake. "I put this away when I went to FLETC. I had to."

Unbidden as they were, his thoughts took a firm grasp of the direction his mind headed next, going straight back the way it had just come; bringing Ducky's voice of experience right back through his thought process, yet again; this time in its' entirety.

_"I think you will find, my dear boy, if you look deeply enough and closely enough that that most private part of who you are has merely been set aside and it has become buried under all of life's ups and downs and all the trials and triumphs along the way. However, that pain and sorrow is still alive enough that it reaches out when it can get your attention. That feeling of rejection from one's own parent is not one that goes away simply by refusing to think about it, I'm afraid."_

Finally giving in to where this was going, Tim laid his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes as the rest of that conversation replayed itself now.

_"Shouldn't be an excuse for the way I treated Gibbs." _

_"Rest assured young man, on that point, you are quite correct. It is not an excuse for anything of the sort. It is merely the reason behind it - the force that guided you – if you will."_

_"Why don't you give it some thought, Timothy? Perhaps you will be able to better explain yourself to Gibbs after you've thought on it for a couple of days. And remember, it does not make us shallow, to want to feel the unconditional love from our parents that we are long taught should have been ours from birth."_

_Unconditional love_. _Yeah, what a concept. Seemed like the only person he'd ever experienced that from was; well not his father; that was for damn sure. Thank God for Penny!_ He thought now. Letting out a deep sigh, he opened his eyes and wiped his hands across them, bring them away unexpectedly wet. _Damn it, he didn't want to do this. Not again. Not after all this time!  
_  
Demanding of himself that it all be shut away, he got out of his car and went inside, busying his thoughts with choosing what sandwich he wanted for dinner. By the time he'd ordered and gotten his food, paid for it and returned to his car, he was once again, calm and thinking of the present world around him. Setting his food down on the passenger seat, he buckled himself up and headed back out for home, this time, enjoying the ride and the music on the radio, his shadows from the past shackled once more; at least for now.

*******NCIS*****  
**

Gibbs drove himself home, his long-time friend's words replaying themselves over in his mind during the ten minute drive there:

_"Jethro, I might, however, be able to offer you a piece of advice that may be of some use to you in regard to our troubled young man. Might I suggest that you take a moment to realize something of vital importance to the both of you? However disturbed or angered you might be feeling in regard to young Timothy's behavior towards you while you were busy trying to solve that case,_ _The behavior he exhibited, as we both_ _know, is foreign to him and Timothy is even more bothered and upset with himself for it."_

The Team Leader found himself shaking his head at the replay of those words, just as he'd shook it then, doubting the truth of them, still.

_"Jethro, listen to what I am telling you. Timothy found himself a spectator to your reconciliation with not only your father, but your past as well. And while I cannot divulge anything further, I can and will say that seeing that reconciliation take place, and how difficult it seemed to be for you, triggered something deep within him regarding his own family that he himself wasn't even aware of at the time."_

Pulling into his driveway, he turned off the engine and gave ponderance to that thought. Gibbs had always thought Tim's family was one of those lucky ones who managed to be the "American Dream" kind of family where everyone loved each other and supported each other through thick and thin, unconditionally, just as he and Shannon had done. Breathing out a deep breath that touched on that ever present pain in his heart for his own loss, he closed his eyes now in an effort to ward off the fresh wave of it that threatened to swallow him whole.

Opening his eyes a moment later, he exhaled again, this time willing his mind to turn away from the whole topic. Somehow, though, he couldn't seem to do that as the rest of that conversation with Ducky continued to assault his mind even while he took himself into the house, heading straight for the basement and his drink of choice that he suddenly needed to steady his nerves.

_"The fact that he did not understand where that behavior had come from truly scared him, almost as much as realizing that the root of it was still there, buried down inside himself. Do try to remember that if and when the young man does come to you about this."_

_"Told him he needed to explain himself to me, Duck."_

_"Yes, so I've heard. While I don't blame you for wanting that explanation, Jethro. It will serve you well to remember, that he will need to dig deeply within himself to find that answer for himself before he can even attempt to even offer it to you. Do try and be patient with him while he sorts through this, won't you_?"

Gibbs found himself leaning heavily against his work bench as his brain shut off the conversation at that point. McGee needed to dig inside himself for the answer to a question Gibbs had asked him? Never in a million years, would he have thought his youngest agent had anything less than the perfect family. Hell, he didn't even present himself to be the type to have come from less than that! He sure didn't advertise it from the rooftops like DiNozzo did.

_What the hell was he supposed to do now? Was it worth rippin' the kid to pieces over this for pushin' Gibbs' buttons once in all the time he's been on the team? Hell, DiNozzo pushed 'em all the damn time and nothing's ever done about it. Why was it so important to crack down on McGee for it?._

_Come to think of it, why the hell had this pushed any buttons for Gibbs?_


	4. Chapter 4

Gibbs frowned as he sat nursing his bourbon, out on his back porch, though it was colder outside than what was considered comfortable. Even though he'd taken the time to talk to Ducky about this earlier tonight, the older man's words just wouldn't stop replaying themselves in his head. It had been hours since he'd left work and driven himself home among the broken record of thoughts and memories playing relentlessly in his mind.

_Timothy found himself a spectator to your reconciliation with not only your father, but your past as well. …seeing that reconciliation take place, and how difficult it seemed to be for you, triggered something deep within him regarding his own family that he himself wasn't even aware of at the time."_

_What was it about this case that brought that out in his agent now, but never had before?_

Now, here it was later than normal on a work night for him to still be up wrestling with his problem and he found himself wide awake since sleep had mockingly slipped away hours ago, as it often did in times like this. He lost track of time as he sat mulling over what wouldn't stop bothering him. As his mind traveled back through the week he'd just gone through that had taken him home again for the first time in thirty years.

It had been a rough week, to say the least but he'd weathered it because he'd had a case to solve, a murderer to find and a team to lead, at the same time he'd been forced to face his foes from his unhappy youth; the very ones he'd managed to get away from when he'd joined the Marines. Try as he might, he couldn't escape the memory of his first moments back in Stillwater, meeting up with one of his former foes tuned town Sheriff.

_"Well, that didn't take long." Gibbs remarked dryly as the local sheriff came from the opposite direction, flipped on his siren for a half-call and then stopped in the street parallel to the agency sedan he'd just parked one parking spot up from being directly in front of his father's store. Silently, he waited until the law enforcement officer got out of his car and approached him._

_"You know, if you had a little tennis ball buzz cut instead of that salt and pepper, you'd remind me of this skinny little wise-ass I used to know. Why didn't you tell me you was coming?" The bald man commented with a small smile directed at the Team Leader._

_"Not sure it's worth your trouble." Gibbs replied calmly with his calm façade in place._

_"Heard you was a Fed now. Never imagined we'd end up on the same side, huh?" _

_"No. No, never. How you been, Ed?" The Team Leader replied with more manners than he usually applied to his conversations. _

_"After 30 years? Well, let's see, um... Remember Debbie Leonard? Knocked her up. Married, kids. My kid had a kid, calls me Pappy. You know how it goes…" Ed replied nonchalantly._

Gibbs remembered feeling the stab of anger at the callous disregard and lack of devotion to marriage and children that Ed seemed to have. He couldn't help but realize now that he was feeling it again, as he shook his head in an attempt to dispel the memories. Unfortunately, Gibbs found himself reliving yet another one now, this time it brought back the slice of pain he'd felt at the offhand comment voiced by his father during the exchange. Even now, he wondered if Jack had verbally struck out at him intentionally with his remark to the owner of the local mining company, who also happened to have been one of his son's enemies in high school, that Gibbs hadn't done as well with his life.

_"Did I hear someone say Leroy? Stop the presses. Got a new headline. 'Local boy makes good!'" Chuck Winslow crowed unexpectedly as he walked in to the entry from the adjoining room._

_"Not as good as you, Chuck." Jack Gibbs replied without missing a beat or looking at his son._

With a wry smile as he thought about it now, Gibbs had to admit as he sat out here in the cold, reliving these moments; that he'd been thrown just slightly by Chuck's calm demeanor at his unexpected and unannounced visit. Hearing the words clearly in his head now as he did then, did little to change his view of the forced homecoming in general. Still the words haunted him, with their less than welcoming tone.

_"No offense. I know you're a Marine through to the bone. What brings you back?" Chuck asked with a tone so quiet and odd, it felt anything but welcoming._

_"Another Marine- Ethan LaCombe." Gibbs replied calmly without batting an eye._

_"Must be a night for raising the dead….Just shows to go you can't always get what you want." Chuck's response had been odd in itself._

Suddenly, Gibbs returned to the here and now, his body's achiness alerting him that he needed to stretch his legs and work some warmth into his limbs. Standing up, he did what he could to stretch his neck and move his shoulders around before retreating into the house and back down to his basement. Sleep was still avoiding him as surely as his memories were taking advantage of the opportunity to haunt him now.

The forced reunion with his father had obviously still been playing on his mind, even more than he'd realized, until now. As the memory of one of the few conversations he'd had with the man, came back to him now, he couldn't help but smile as it buried itself in his heart among the others from long ago that he cherished, despite the pain it had touched on and reminded him of.

_"I appreciate you making an effort not to tear the town apart. You give people a chance, they might surprise you." Jack offered once Ziva and Tim had gone out to get the evidence they needed for their case._

_"That's what worries me." Gibbs replied with a slight laugh._

_"Tell me about this investigator thing of yours. We haven't talked since you started it. …In fact, we haven't talked since the funeral. I adored that wife of yours. And I adored that child, too. Always figured it was Shannon that sent me the Christmas cards." Jack changed the subject, steering into dangerous waters._

_"Well, it's like what you do." Gibbs kept his response directed at exactly where he wanted the conversation to go, despite the sharp jab of pain he felt in his heart at his father's reminder of his losses._

_"What, selling groceries?" Jack seemed genuinely confused._

_"No. You like to tell a story." _

_"Well, I've been known to spin a yarn or two."_

_"Yeah, most of mine start with a dead body. You look into how they got that way, they come back to life. Meet the people they knew. You see what they try to show you. You read what they try to hide." Gibbs explained in layman's terms._

_"People come in here all the time. Tell me their life stories at the drop of a hat. What are they trying to hide?" His father asked in surprise. It was apparent, he'd never considered this about his townfolk._

_"Insecurity. Need assurance their life means something."_

_"Leroy...what did I do at the funeral?" Jack asked suddenly, as if the need for the answer had been burning in his gut all these years._

_"You mean, other than showing up with a date?" His son was quick with the answer that left no doubt it had come straight from his own hurting heart._

_"I always thought that your mom and I had a love story for the ages. I never regretted giving up the skies, working underground every day in the mines. I wanted to give you that white, picket-fence dream." His father tried to explain himself as he sat down at the table._

_"And you did." Gibbs was quick to reassure him while sitting down at the table with him._

_"But you see... things did not work out between your mom and me. When she died, I know how mad that made you. I know how you hated me for getting on with my life. I saw the look in your face. How you wanted vengeance. And that look went away when you met Shannon, but it came back quick after they died. I knew what that meant. You were gonna find someone to take it out on. Didn't matter what I said."_

_"It never did." The younger man confirmed before softening his tone and reaching out to his father for the first time. "What do you see now?_

Sighing in frustration now as he returned momentarily to the present, Gibbs poured himself a double shot of bourbon and swallowed it in one drink. He and his father had been handed a golden opportunity at that moment to delve into each other's hearts and it had been ruined, by the unannounced and definitely unappreciated arrival of not one but both of his high school enemies.

_"Chuck. Ed." Jack was quick to greet his fellow town's people._

_"I've got some complaints to register on behalf of my employees. You've been sifting through their trash." Chuck came straight to the point as he looked at Gibbs._

_"I told you to come to me if you needed anything." Ed looked his long-time nemesis straight on as he spoke to him._

_"You did. I will." Gibbs replied without hesitation or worry._

_"Be civilized, Leroy. You ask me, I think this is about a grudge….You want to settle the score? Why don't we handle it like men?" Chuck replied, unable to ask the question without a grin for old time's sake._

_"Oh, no .I know how you two handle things." Gibbs smirked as he answered the man's invitation for trouble._

_"Sure you want to pick this fight?" Came the surprising question from Ed._

_"Wasn't my choice." Gibbs declared calmly._

_His reward was their silent departure on that remark and a knowing look from his father as their glances met when they were left alone once more_

***END FLASHBACK***.

Knowing that flashback from his high school days was also coming back to taunt him again, noo matter how hard he tried to ward it off Gibbs poured himself another drink before closing his eyes and letting it roll on through his mind, hoping this ancient history would leave him alone afterwards.

_**FLASHBACK***_

_"Get off him!" A young Ed growled at his favorite human punching bag, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, while pulling at him from behind to get him off his friend Chuck, who'd instigated the fight from behind to begin with._

_"Get off of me!" High school Senior Leroy growled back as he attempted to shake Ed off even while being pulled backwards off the kid otherwise known to him as his aggresssor, Chuck._

_"Hold him, Ed!" Chuck goaded his friend as he came back at Leroy for more._

_**CRACK** The sound of a hunting rifle's gunshot splintered the air, disrupting the fight._

_"That's enough!" An angry Jack Gibbs yelled out with the authority of a parent who'd watched his son get bullied and ganged up on long enough._

_"Next time, when your daddy's not around, I'm gonna kill you! Winslow threatened Gibbs as he grabbed him by the shirt and jerked him up close._

_Having his own grip on Chuck's shirt and getting in his own well deserved push, Leroy voiced his own warning. "Next time, when your buddy's not around, Chuck, I'm gonna kill you!"_

_***END FLASHBACK***_

He could have done without ever having to re-live that part of his life and as the cold permeated his bones and he stood to stretch now, Gibbs found himself wondering if the forced trip down his less than pleasant past had been part of the reason he'd taken such a hard line with his agent, who'd incidentally gotten caught up in the crosshairs of his already primed and ready trigger, since there hadn't been any other outlet for his emotions, good or bad.

Admittedly, what little frustration he had voiced towards the younger man had been mild by anyone's standards and he hadn't been angry about it; at least, not at the time. So, why, then, had he become angry when Tim had admitted he didn't know why he'd second guessed him?

Sighing in frustration, Gibbs capped the bottle, set the glass down as well and headed upstairs. He didn't need this. Whatever the reason for his own behavior, be it because he'd had no other outlet for his frustration or because he'd been secretly angry that the kid had inadvertently witnessed what should have been a private reconciliation between a long estranged father and son, Gibbs needed to shake it off and get back to the business of living in the present. It was over and done with and he had no business raking Tim over the coals for any of it. Tomorrow, he'd tell him so.


	5. Chapter 5

Sighing in complete frustration, Tim gave up trying to sleep and padded in his bare feet, out of his room toward his kitchen. Unable to stop the plethora of thoughts and memories from plaguing him long enough to capture sleep, his head was now beginning to hurt and he needed some caffeine. He knew it was a risk – that it might give him more of a headache – but at the moment – he needed the jolt, as well as something to do with his hands to stay busy.

Glancing at the clock on his kitchen counter as he waited for the coffee to brew, he blinked in disbelief. It felt like he'd been awake all night but in reality it was only two in the morning. _Great! Just Great! Just what he needed; to be a zombie at work in the morning._ Pouring himself a cup of coffee as soon as there was enough brewed to snatch away from the pot, he fixed it the way he wanted it and took himself to his living room, settling down on the couch so he could stretch his legs out in front of him, letting his feet rest on his coffee table.

Laying his head back against the back of the sofa after he drank from his cup, he sighed out loud as he closed his eyes. _Why couldn't he let this go? Better still, why had it upset Gibbs so much?_

_"Next time you think you can do my job better than me, McGee, you just say the word and I'll turn my gun, my badge and my chair over to you and go back to Mexico! Until then – you figure out why you decided I wasn't doing my job good enough to suite you and then you explain it to me!"_

It had never been his intention to upset the boss. Even now, as he replayed some of the conversations he'd both heard and had while they'd worked that case, in his mind, he struggled to understand how and why he and Gibbs had come to this point about this. Slowly, he let it all parade through in an effort to figure this out.

_"Printed out directions, Boss." Tim nervously advised the older man._

_"Yeah, I know how to get there, McGee." Gibbs' voice was softer and calmer than usual._

_"So when was the last time you went home?" The young man felt brave, given he had Ziva for backup and the boss seemed to be in an extremely mellow mood._

_"I make it a point to go home every night." The answer brought small smiles to both Tim's and Ziva's faces and gave Tim the courage to push for more._

_"Well, I mean, when was the last time you went to Stillwater?"_

_"I'd just joined the Corps. Summer '76." The boss' voice seemed far away, as if he was getting caught up in his memories and Tim stopped pushing, unwilling to cross that line._

_"What was it like when you left?" Ziva asked calmly, her interest genuine._

_"Oh. Whole lot of fanfare. Fireworks, parades... Might have been the bicentennial." Gibbs voice remained unchanged as he shared yet another tidbit of his past with them, leaving Tim feeling like he'd just been given a rare glimpse into the man._

Lifting his head back up, he drank from his cup, savoring the still hot brew as he strove to move himself past that moment that had stuck with him. There were plenty of other moments that stood out – that could possibly be attributed toward being responsible for his behavior towards the man.

_"Well, that didn't take long." Gibbs remarked dryly as the local sheriff came from the opposite direction, flipped on his siren for a half-call and then stopped in the street parallel to the agency sedan he'd just parked one parking spot up from being directly in front of his father's store. Silently, he waited until the law enforcement officer got out of his car and approached him._

_"You know, if you had a little tennis ball buzz cut instead of that salt and pepper, you'd remind me of this skinny little wise-ass I used to know. Why didn't you tell me you was coming?" The bald man commented with a small smile directed at the Team Leader._

_"Not sure it's worth your trouble." Gibbs replied calmly with his unreadable façade in place._

_"Heard you was a Fed now. Never imagined we'd end up on the same side, huh?"_

_"No. No, never. How you been, Ed?" The Team Leader replied with more manners than he usually applied to his conversations._

Tim smiled at that memory. Gibbs hadn't let an obviously former foe rile him in any way and that had gone a long way in keeping things normal in the midst of what felt like a trip to the surreal. He remembered feeling edgy as if the world as he knew it was about to cave in around him. Scoffing at himself now, he wondered if that was why he questioned Gibbs right off the bat.

_"Boss, there a reason you didn't call ahead? Of course there is. If someone around here had a grudge to settle with Ethan LaCombe, why let them know we're coming?"_

Realizing now, how amateurish his own mini question and answer moment had been in the face of things, he couldn't help but smirk at himself for a moment. But, as his memories turned next, to the first moment between Gibbs and his father, Tim shifted uncomfortably on the couch, nearly spilling his hot coffee on himself. Taking a moment to drink it down, he set the now empty cup on the table and set his head back against the back of the couch as he thought on things further. The quietly spoken exchange of words between his boss and the older Gibbs came back to him as clear as day now.

_Word travels fast._

_That it does. When people actually open their mouths and speak with one another. You don't call. You don't write. Were you going to come by and say hi?_

_Hi...Jack._

_Hi...Leroy._

_Ziva, McGee. Jackson Gibbs. My father._

Something in Tim's gut churned now at this train of thought – as if he'd hit a nerve. He recalled how Gibbs hadn't looked anywhere else but directly at his father through that entire exchange of words and yet despite the revelation that Tim and Ziva were obviously witnessing a long-overdue reconciliation, the voices had remained as calm and emotionless as if they'd been discussing the weather, or maybe it had been because of them being there.

Tim remembered feeling stunned at what was happening in front of him, of the conversation he'd just been a witness to and he didn't think he'd ever forget the look of astonishment on Ziva's face either. But it was the simmering hurt he could hear in the barely discernable tremor of Jackson Gibbs' voice that struck a chord with the young man as he'd stood there silently witnessing things play out. He'd give anything to hear that much emotion from his own father and it was something he'd never quite stopped wishing for. That was why, he knew now, that it was at that moment that Tim had felt like he'd been given a front row seat to the makings of a real family healing, no matter which way things went from there.

Knowing he'd never have that with his own father, had hit him at that moment like a kick from a mule. Remembering that feeling now, he found himself having to blink several times in order to clear his vision for some unknown reason. He'd been more than relieved when as a group, Jackson Gibbs had shepherded them into his store just down the street.

Suddenly, it was as if Tim's brain had triggered something explosive, his body vaulting up off the couch almost of its' own free will, taking him back to the kitchen with the sudden need for more coffee. _Why did it feel like he was running from something now?_ Now he saw nothing but a wall of emptiness in his mind as all of this thoughts scattered into hiding. Whatever nerve he'd hit, obviously was going to take some more digging to find.

Setting his cup down in the sink, he turned and headed for the shower, no longer pushing himself to think on anything. He knew it would come to him in time. He just hoped it would be sooner than later because knowing his luck, Gibbs would want that answer before Tim had found it. The young man wasn't looking forward to things falling into place in _that_ particular order.

Fifteen minutes later, as the heat of the nearly scalding water cascaded down on him in the shower worked wonders in easing the tiredness and aches from his body, the answer that he'd been digging for since the previous night suddenly sprung to the forefront of his mind.

_"… I always make it a point to return home after every adventure, unlike some people I know. Does he ever talk about me- my boy?" Jackson asked with enough undisguised hurt that it suddenly felt to Tim like the older man had somehow just surrounded himself with eggshells on which Tim and Ziva had to walk, even without looking directly at him._

_"I think I heard him refer to you once as dead." Tim had said with complete honesty as his attention remained fixed on the computer screen in front of him, only regretting it when the silence that greeted his words nearly crackled with the negative emotion his words had portrayed_

_"Uh, you probably misheard him, McGee." Ziva quickly tried to turn the tide back before it swept them all away._

_"Think she's right. Uh, I think he probably said "Dad." Tim was just as quick to grab onto that life-preserver she'd thrown him and pray that Jackson Gibbs hadn't been too hurt by the truth that Tim had just accidentally revealed about his boss' spoken words on the subject of Jackson Gibbs._

Thinking back now, Tim was hard-pressed to recall where he had in fact heard Gibbs say such a thing about his father, but he knew that it was the key piece to the puzzle and so he pushed himself to remember it. With a mental slap, he recalled that it had been the case where that FBI Agent had turned on Fornell and darn near gotten the FBI Agent charged for a crime he hadn't committed. Tim remembered it had been a wild and crazy case that had ended well for the good guys; especially Fornell and they had all been relieved about that.

_No brothers. No uncles. My father passed years ago. I do have three ex-wives whose names and addresses I will gladly fax on to you… Huh! He hung up!_

That little tid-bit regarding Gibbs' father that he'd only heard from the boss' side of the phone conversation, had stuck Tim in the heart because he'd immediately felt for the older man. He had no family to be there for him and it was especially heart rending since Gibbs was such a solitary person.

Now, meeting Jackson Gibbs and having the boss introduce him to Tim and Ziva, had ripped a hole in Tim's heart where the ache for Gibbs' being alone in the world had been. Not only that, but while Tim had suffered through years of having no father to support him because of the older man's choosing, Gibbs had gone through the same pain, but through his own choosing by deliberately cutting all ties with his father. Yet this same man still grieved for the rest of his family.

Even now, coming to this realizations, Tim had to admit to himself that he'd just found the truth he'd been searching for. _Hadn't he? Hadn't he felt angry at Gibbs for having deliberately disowned his father who was in reality a loving dad, just as Tim had been disowned by his father who didn't know what being a loving father meant?_

_Was **t****hat **the answer to Gibbs' question? Was **that **the truth behind Tim's loss of absolute faith in the man's way of handling the case that had obviously been a painful struggle for him? Anger? Jealousy? Was Ducky really right all along? Was **that **why Tim had sprouted off the way he had? Unbelievable!_

Shaking his head in self-recrimination, Tim frowned at his thoughts now. _It was no wonder the man had gotten pissed at him. __It shouldn't matter what choices Gibbs had made in his personal life. It wasn't Tim's place to pass judgement and he'd been wrong to let his own personal feelings push him to cross that line. Tim was really sorry he'd lost focus like that and had treated Gibbs that way.  
_

_Tomorrow, he'd tell him so._


	6. Chapter 6

Walking into the squad room at the early hour of six a.m., Gibbs wasn't sure what shocked him more, the sight of his normally clear desk, now home to an envelope or the tell-tale signs that his youngest agent was already here. Seeing the already booted up computer with the screen showing a search being run, as well as the file folder laying closed up on the desk, told the tale of the young man most likely taking a minute to use the head with the intent of coming straight back to the work at hand.

Smiling at his youngest agent's devotion to the job, the Team Leader no longer felt the exhaustion that had clung to him earlier. It was as if seeing someone else here earlier than himself had wiped it all away. As his eyes found the envelope on his desk once more, the smile turned to a frown. He didn't need surprises messing things up for his team and he hoped this wasn't anything like that. Turning it over in his hands, he was surprised to find that the envelope wasn't even sealed. Whoever this was from hadn't expected anyone else to come upon it before he did and since his name was in type on the front there was no way to know who it was from without opening it to find out. Although he had his suspiscions, Gibbs wasn't willing to jump to any conclusions this time.

Unfolding the single sheet of paper, his eyes quickly scanned it to see if the gist of whatever this was about could jump out at him, or at least the name of who it was from. Sure enough, his youngest agent's name seemed to immediately draw his attention to the very place on the page where it was. In a moment of pure need to know what this was bringing about, he stopped and forced his eyes to start at the top of the page and read it all.

_Boss:_

_You told me to explain why I second guessed you during the Ethan LaCombe case and at the time you were asking , I really did not know. I've had to look hard to find the answer to your question but I've done a lot of thinking about it and I think I found it. _

_I know, I know, "Think, McGee?"_

_The truth is, Boss. I'm not 100% sure about this, so I'm only able to give you my best guess. Since you and I have never had much in the way of conversations with each other, I thought it best to get this taken care of in writing, just in case you didn't want to discuss it further. Not to mention, having this in writing so you can include it in my permanent record that much easier._

_I've never had to dig deep within myself to understand why I did or said something before. I apologise if this isn't what you had in mind when you asked for the truth. It's the best I can offer._

_In thinking over the conversations you and I have had during the case; the best I can figure is that there were only three times I questioned you. The first of these questions, I immediately answered my for myself and should not seriously be counted as anything but exploring all avenues of possibilities in trying to put the pieces of the case together._

_Questioning the reasons and motivations is part our job. That is why I can't find any reason to have to apologise for doing just that when I asked you if you thought we'd taken something of a wrong turn in the case, either, even though it was one of the points you were less than happy about when you asked me if I wanted to frontload more complaints. We've asked ourselves and each other that very question in cases often enough that it's SOP now._

_That brings me to my questioning your lack of breaking down doors and dragging out suspects as the sole point of contention._

_Boss, I am sorry I questioned you the way I did. I was wrong to do so and I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't happen again._

_As for the reason I asked you what I did, I can only say, it was inexcusable. If I told you it was because I was angry with you - you'd want to know why._

_I'm asking you not to ask me, but to accept that I accept that I was wrong to do so, I apologise and I will not do it again._

_Respectfully,_

_T. McGee_

_P.S. Please know that at no time was I ever tying to say that I didn't feel you were doing your job or that I felt I could do it better. I would never even think such a thing, much less say it._

More flabbergasted than anything, Gibbs could only set the paper down on his desk , sit back in his chair and try to absorb what he'd just read. Removing his reading glasses with one hand, he rubbed the bridge of his nose where they'd been sitting, in absentminded stress relief as he tossed the glasses down on top of the paper and closed his eyes for a moment. Even as the words his agent had written to him filtered into his brain, the warning words of his long-time friend, the M.E. came back to him now.

_"However disturbed or angered you might be feeling in regard to young Timothy's behavior towards you while you were busy trying to solve that case, The behavior he exhibited, as we both know, is foreign to him and Timothy is even more bothered and upset with himself for it."_

_"The fact that he did not understand where that behavior had come from truly scared him, almost as much as realizing that the root of it was still there, buried down inside himself. Do try to remember that if and when the young man does come to you about this."_

_It will serve you well to remember, that he will need to dig deeply within himself to find that answer for himself before he can even attempt to even offer it to you. Do try and be patient with him while he sorts through this, won't you?"_

With a breathed out sigh, Gibbs stowed his glasses back in his shirt pocket and put the letter back in the envelope, locking it away in his desk. Tim had done what had been asked of him and nothing more needed to be said about it. The boss was less than happy that the young man believed this matter would be included in his personal record, but there would be time to address that later. For now, the work day was about to start and this needed to be shelved until such time that it could be addressed as Gibbs had planned on doing.

****NCIS****

The end of the work day came without incident or new call-out and after a ten hour day of sludging through cold cases, they were all more than ready to call it a day when Gibbs gave the word at five that night. It had been a typical day with the team, teasing and cutting up one minute and getting irate with each other the next, but no bloodshed took place and no tempers flared beyond the norm. All in all it had been a good day and without any headslaps needed.

Watching his team pack up to head out, Gibbs' eyes once again fell on his youngest agent and he was reminded once more, that they had yet to resolve that issue between them, despite Tim's effort to take care of in writing. Feeling for the first time that he could ever remember, that he needed to make the effort to bridge the gap between himself and this young man, Gibbs made a decision and proceeded to set his plan in motion to achieve his objective. Before he could get away for the night, the boss stood and approached his youngest agent, knowing the young man would stop and wait for him to speak his mind.

Sure enough, even as Tony and Ziva left the squad room amidst the usual polite 'good-night's, Tim remained standing still as he waited to see what the boss wanted from him. He'd been expecting something like this ever since he'd left the letter he'd spent several of his sleepless hours drafting, sitting on the man's desk when he'd come in at six this morning. The day had been a good one despite there being no sign other than the absence of the letter from the boss' desk, that it had even been seen or read. Tim had taken the hint and allowed himself to set the matter into the back of his mind and get back to the business of a normal day of work.

Now, it appeared, the time had come for the ax to fall on this matter and Tim forced himself to remain steadily looking the boss straight on as the man approached him. With eyes on each other, Gibbs was the first to speak.

"C'mon. There's something I need you to see."

*****NCIS*****

The ride to the destination on Gibbs' mind was a quiet one. Both intrigued and worried about the man's directive, Tim had quickly shouldered his gear bag and followed in the man's wake as they'd left the squad room and taken the elevator down to sign out for the night. The silence on the elevator had been expected and for that reason, hadn't bothered Tim, despite the ever growing unsettled feeling in his stomach. Now, as Gibbs slowed the car and pulled into a driveway that Tim vaguely remembered belonged to the older man, all he could do was frown and question what was going on.

"Boss?"

In response, Gibbs could only smirk as he turned off the car and got out and offered one word for an explanation. "C'mon."

Thinking the man needed to show him a computer that needed to be set up, Tim sighed and unbuckled his seat belt before getting out of the car and catching up to Gibbs as the older man stepped inside. Wordlessly, the boss led the way to the living room and gestured for Tim to take a seat on the couch before turning to the fireplace and working to get a warm blaze going.

Sitting down on the boss' couch, Tim couldn't help but feel like he was sitting in the 'hot seat' and it was getting more uncomfortable with every passing minute. Suddenly, Gibbs rose from working on the fire and looked directly at the younger man. "Coffee?"

"Ah." Tim replied nervously. "Sure, Boss."

Gibbs looked over at him seriously. "Relax, McGee. We're off the clock and you're not in trouble."

"Oh." The younger man sighed in relief.

"Be back in a few." The boss offered as he left the room to go make coffee.

Being left alone in the older man's absence, Tim's mind began to race. _What the heck was going on?_ _What was it he was supposed to be seeing here? Why?_

It wasn't long before Gibbs was back, carrying a mug of coffee in each hand. Handing one over to Tim, he looked his agent straight on. "How'd you like your steak?"

Watching Tim struggle to overcome his shock enough to formulate an answer, Gibbs had to laugh. "You're hungry aren't ya? I'm starved."

"Well, yeah, I am, but..." The young man was still sputtering.

"C'mon, McGee. Out with it. The cook can't wait all night." The boss smirked as he turned to go back to the kitchen for the steaks.

"Medium well is fine, Boss. Thank you." Tim answered bashfully. "You don't have to feed me. I ca..."

"Oh, I'm not feedin' ya. Far as I can see, your hands work." Gibbs joked as he left the room with a hoot of laughter.

Tim shook his head, having a hard time believing what he was seeing and hearing. This wasn't the boss he knew or was even comfortable with. He felt like every minute spent towards relaxing now was just putting off that moment when the other shoe was going to drop for the unresolved issue between them.

As the older man returned with a plate holding two uncooked steaks in one hand and a long handled prong in the other, that feeling seemed to ease, if only just a little. After all, it wasn't every day the boss let himself relax at all, much less around anyone on the team. Well, that most likely wasn't true, Tim corrected his thoughts; it was just Tim himself that the Team Leader never seemed relaxed around.

"Pretty quiet all day today, McGee." Gibbs revealed the observation he'd made throughout the day as he set the steaks on his fireplace grill and sat down on the brick that had been set in to use as a seating area, and looked over at his agent.

"Guess I just have a lot on my mind, Boss." Tim replied quietly as he stood from the couch and approached the older man so they could talk without raising their voices.

"Wouldn't have anything to do with that letter you left on my desk this morning, would it?" Gibbs dropped the shoe as he used the prong to repeatedly pierce the steaks for a minute before setting the utensil down on the plate and turning to face the young man while holding the plate.

"Boss, I..."

"Wanted to tell you all day today, McGee. I shouldn't have taken the hard line with you." The Team Leader shifted the conversation where he wanted it to go.

"Boss, you don't hav..." Tim tried to object but was interrupted.

"Can't promise that it won't happen again. Only that I'll try." Gibbs vowed before leaving the room .

Feeling like his world was tilting off its' axis, Tim sat down in the chair closest to him and closed his eyes for a minute. He couldn't even think straight at the moment and nothing specific came to mind to even think on. It was as if this new turn of events had eradicated his brain cells.

Coming back into the room with a clean plate and the now clean steak prong, Gibbs couldn't help but notice Tim had taken a seat yet still looked shell shocked. Seeing the tense young man with his eyes closed and his less than quiet, steady breathing, it wasn't hard to understand what was going on, even if the reason was unclear. The older man cocked his head to the side and looked hard at his agent as the wariness seemed to ooze from the younger man. Even after Gibbs set the plate down and sat himself down on the fireplace brick seating once more, Tim still hadn't relaxed enough to get his breathing under control, although he had opened his eyes and discovered the floor at his feet to be very fascinating to stare at..

"What is it you're worried about, Tim?" The boss asked quietly as he watched carefully for the effect his words would have on the younger man.

Sure enough, whether it was the quiet tone, the concern within the question or the use of his given name, something in what he'd just heard, seemed to calm Tim down almost immediately and it wasn't long before he was able to look up and over at the boss and explain, although his expression was surprisingly unreadable. "I guess I'm just not sure what to expect, Boss."

"Dinner." Gibbs quipped as he picked up the prongs and turned the steaks over before returning the utensil to the plate and then his attention back to Tim.

Tim smiled softly and the matching humor in his eyes was nice to see. Smiling for a minute in return, the older man was pleased to see the wariness and tension begin to slip away from his agent. Now maybe, they could talk after a nice meal. Both of which were rare enough between the two of them that he hadn't wanted any stressors to get in the way and add to the problem.

Nothing more was said as Gibbs encouraged the younger man to accompany him to the kitchen to help with the table set up while the older man turned the fries over and slid the pan back into the oven. Turning his attention to the salad, he tossed it for a minute before setting the bowl down on the table amidst the settings Tim had just finished placing. Still quiet as Gibbs gestured for him to sit down while he, himself retrieved the steaks from the fireplace and served them up with the french fries few minutes later, Tim didn't fail to smile in appreciation, though he did seem to also have the look of guilt about him, as if he felt Gibbs shouldn't be going through the trouble of feeding him.

Ignoring the emotional cues he hadn't missed for now, Gibbs popped the top off his beer and took a long swig, unable to hide the smirk when he noticed the young man hanging onto his coffee as if he were afraid the boss was going to replace it with a cold beer. Setting his can down, he began enjoying his meal, hoping Tim would take the hint and do the same. Sure enough, the next half hour was spent enjoying dinner with no stress or even the need for conversation.

As the last of the meal was consumed and both of them sat back to enjoy their drink of choice, Gibbs pushed his napkin covered plate to the side and rested his arms on the table just above his elbows, his hands wrapped around his beer where it sat on the table "I've heard it said that we make our own ghosts with the memories we make. Also heard that we fill the spaces that we live in with them."

Tim blinked and looked away. Suddenly, it was hard to swallow around the lump in his throat as he glanced at his boss across the table before looking back to his coffee. He picked the cup up and drank from it and set it back down. Finally, he took a breath and slowly let it back out and looked back at Gibbs. "I think I can relate to that."

"Had a feelin' you could." Gibbs offered in a tone that closely resembled sympathy as he stood from the table and reached for the coffee pot, brought it back to the table and refilled Tim's cup before putting the pot back in the coffee maker.

Tim offered a thin smile of thanks for the refill. He wanted to look away once more when the older man turned back to him but found that he couldn't, compelled by the compassion he found in those cobalt blue oceans of understanding that he'd never had focused on himself like this before. Nodding his head towards the living room, Gibbs led the way and as they both settled into comfortable seats; Tim on the couch and Gibbs in the chair next to it, the older man spoke again. "You met my dad. Tell me about your yours, McGee."

The quiet encouragement was far from an order but still pulled at Tim the same relentless way. Almost without thinking about it, he found himself wanting to talk about something he'd long thought buried; something he hadn't even felt relieved about when sharing it with Ducky, just days before.

Somehow, he felt more comfortable just letting the words flow of their own accord, as if he were no longer even consciously thinking of the man sitting next to him that he had never talked to before about anything personal. It was as though that barrier of uncomfortable silence had just disappeared into thin air as he spoke of incidents that not only described the pain that had built up over the years, but the circumstances behind them and the little boy who had become this young man now; incidents like the year he was seven and he'd spent the day creating a special birthday card for his father; only to be given the card right back and told he could do better; and the straight 'A's and 'B's that weren't good enough in school because they were always accompanied by remarks from his teachers about his less than popular status at school and the numerous times he was harassed by the other students and rescued by his teachers, even when he never complained about any of it.

As if too afraid someone would put the stopper back in the bottle, Tim kept going, his words nearly tripping over themselves as he went on to talk about the terrible fights he overheard between his mother and father when he'd come home bedraggled and bruised from the bullies or so angry he'd go up to his room and not come down for the rest of the night, not even for dinner.

Barely taking a breath, he even went on to talk about the biggest fight his parents had, just after they listened to him excitedly talk about his grand plan for his own future, complete with details and descriptions of what he expected to have to experience along the way. The reminder now, of how they'd told him that night, that he was excused so they could discuss it just after Tim finished telling them of his dreams and the argument that shortly began between them that soon erupted into a yelling match that ended in with his mother's tearful embrace as she came to his room and hugged him, telling him to always follow his dreams and be true to himself first and his sister second.

It was at this point in Tim's verbal recollections that the young man stopped talking and allowed his head to hang, as if he no longer had the strength to hold it up while now taking the time to pull himself back together. Having listened quietly as his agent bared his soul of all the long buried hurts and sorrow, Gibbs now stood and approached him, laying a hand on his shoulder and silently letting him know, he was the anchor if Tim needed one as the young man worked to rein in his emotions that had been given the freedom to rise to the surface after years of being suppressed.

With a full dose of embarrassment, Tim raised his head up and glanced at the boss for a brief moment before looking away once more. "Probably not what you had in mind when you asked me to tell you about my dad, huh?"

Gibbs' answer was unmistakably parental, as the urge within him to help this young man purge it all, rose to the surface.. "Glad you got it out, Tim."

Swallowing hard around the new lump in his throat, Tim smiled weakly as he looked away for a minute before spearing Gibbs with a look of absolute sincerety as he spoke humbly. "Thank you."


	7. Epilogue

_A/N: Thank you all for your continued reading/reviewing._

A special thank you goes out to Shelbylou - for her awesome co-writing of this - our final chapter.

And now...

* * *

_"Thank you."_

At that moment when his agent was being his usual, polite self simply because the older man had _finally_ taken the time to ask him about his relationship with his father, Ducky's advice about this came back to the Team Leader

_"Jethro, listen to what I am telling you. Timothy found himself a spectator to your reconciliation with not only your father, but your past as well. And while I cannot divulge anything further, I can and will say that seeing that reconciliation take place, and how difficult it seemed to be for you, triggered something deep within him regarding his own family that he himself wasn't even aware of at the time."_

Blinking as he came back to the present, he looked at Tim straight on and spoke to him with a genuine interest. "What about your mother? Talk to her often?"

Tim stood up and walked to the sliding glass doors that led to the deck are out back. For a long silent minute, he stared out into the darkness as though looking for solace beyond his reach. Not wanting to push too far, Gibbs kept his silence, knowing the young man would let him know which way this conversation needed to go from here. Sure enough, the pregnant pause ended just shy of three minutes later when Tim answered the question softly in a voice that was quiet and shaky, obviously timbered with the emotions his answer was bringing to the surface.

"I didn't realize it at the time, but she was saying goodbye to me that night. She took Sarah and left while I was still in my room trying to avoid my father until morning. I was leaving for college at 0800 and Penny said she wanted to be the one to drive me. I was supposed to be saying goodbye to everyone that night, anyway but still…" Tim trailed off knowing that no other words were needed for the explanation and waited for Gibbs to say something, knowing that he would.

"Ever have the chance to talk to her about it?" Gibbs asked gently as he walked over to his agent and stopped beside him where he stood.

Tim shook his head as he blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. "No. We never talked about my father when she called… and she called at least once a week. We always just talked about me, Sarah's newest news and the new things Mom had found to do to keep her busy. Dad's name never came up. I had no idea she'd even left him; much less started divorce proceedings against him. She died while I was in school that year, towards the end of the year. Drunk driver ran a red light and plowed right into her. We were told it was instantaneous and she didn't feel pain…"

At that moment, Gibbs felt his heart tug at the pain Tim had felt in his short life. No kid should ever feel the loss he'd gone through; the loss of a parent, especially not after dealing with their father's rejection. Tim started talking again and Gibbs pushed away the rush of sorrow to listen intently.

"She'd just come from dropping Sarah off at a friend's house for the night and was coming to see me. We were going to spend the weekend playing tourists together and talking. She'd called me a couple of days before to ask me if I could fit her into my schedule." Tim huffed out a bitter laugh and shook his head. "Like that was ever in question. I would have done anything to spend time with her."

"Oh, Tim." Gibbs whispered sadly as the hurt for Tim's past seemed to hit him fully. The emotions he'd pushed down a mere minute earlier returned leaving him stunned.

"Guess that's why I got so angry with you." Tim admitted suddenly. "I'd remembered when you'd told that gang leader that your dad had passed years ago. Then we met him. Sorry, Boss…and I know, apologies are a sign of weakness but it was really obvious he loves and missed you a whole lot , all this time."

"And it rubbed you the wrong way because your father's attitude towards you since that night came pretty close to how I had turned my back on my dad." The boss reasoned out calmly, showing no anger or displeasure about the truth Tim was sharing with him.

"Yeah." Tim breathed out as he looked back outside, his eyes closing for a minute. "I never should have opened my mouth, Boss. I'm really sorry."

"I get it, Tim." Gibbs was quick to reassure him. "Just don't let your emotions run away from you on the job again and do me a favour."

Tim looked at him with a frown but stayed silent. Gibbs just grinned and shook his head at the naïve innocence he never got bored of seeing in the young agent. "Quit apologisin'."

"Oh, So…" Tim huffed out a laugh. "Okay, I won't do it again. Or at least, I'll do my best not to let it happen again." Tim vowed seriously as he looked the boss directly on.

"I know." Gibbs reassured him.

Tim smiled weakly in appreciation for the man's unwavering trust in his character. "Guess I should be heading home." He rolled his neck and sighed. "I need to get some sleep. I'm tired."

"Nope."

"But, Bo..."

"I've got a guest room, McGee. Even has a bed in it."

Tim smiled. "Thanks, Boss, but seriously, it won't take me long to drive home. I appreciate the offer though."

"McGee, if you think I'm lettin' you drive when you're dog tired, then maybe you need me to head slap you. I've done it for Tony, Ziva and Abby, and now it's your turn. My door has always been open to you. I get why you never took me up on it; you didn't trust that you were included, but now you know different."

Tim stood there stunned for a moment and sighed. "Thanks, Boss. Honestly, the thought of driving right now…"

"I know. It's gettin' late so why don't you head up? Shower's second door on the right. Your overnight bag in the car?"

"Of course. I learned that lesson the hard way." Tim smiled but it soon turned into a yawn.

At Gibbs' confused frown, he laughed warmly. "My first year on your team, I ran through a carwash, remember? I only had my gym clothes to fall back on. Since then, I've made a point of having a couple of fresh sets of clothes and my overnight kit just in case because you know how many all-nighters we've pulled over the years."

Gibbs grinned in return, at the memory of that day and shucked his head towards the door. "Attaboy. Go on, go shower if you want and get some shut eye. I'll wake you up in the morning."

"Okay. Night, Boss" Tim replied willingly. As he headed out of the room, toward the stairs, he stopped and turned back to ask the man a question. "Boss?"

"Yeah, McGee?"

"You said there was something you needed me to see?"

In response to the question, Gibbs eyebrows marched up to his hairline.

Taking a minute to think about what he had been shown since he'd gotten here tonight; dinner, the chance to relax in the boss' house, time spent in the boss' company without pressure or anything work related, the sympathetic shoulder and genuinely concerned ear along with the carte blanche to let it all out, and finally, that he was welcomed here as much as the rest of the team, finally, Tim got it and a smile of gratitude and appreciation crossed his face. As he opened his mouth to offer yet another round of gratitude, Gibbs shot him a warning look, not wanting him to say anything more on the subject, his eyes locked on his agent he warmed his tone up before he spoke, but made sure his words would not be forgotten easily.

"Don't ever think that my door's not open for you, Tim. You're part of my team and nothing will ever change that."

Tim smiled warmly at the extra confirmation and reassurance that he'd long needed to hear. Sure, Gibbs had said it twice now, but it was still nice to have it affirmed strongly that way. Before he could speak, Gibbs carried on and what the boss had to say next came as an even bigger surprise.

"Ducky's always tellin' me you're all my kids. Guess I should listen to him more often. Just don't tell anyone I said that because I'd never live it down." Gibbs couldn't hide his smirk and Tim appreciated the open honestly that came with a twinkle to the Team leaders blue eyes…though he did try to keep his voice just firm enough to be taken seriously.

With a huge grin that lit up his face and set his eyes sparkling with humor,Tim replied."I won't…Dad."

_~~FINIS~~_


End file.
